


The Ol' Switcheroo

by PurplePatchwork



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Harm to Children, Horror, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Injury, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 04:19:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5115509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurplePatchwork/pseuds/PurplePatchwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Alfred and Matthew find an advertisement that could help them have better parents, a quirky stranger appears in the house...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ol' Switcheroo

"I am so done with them!" Alfred yelled, throwing another book through the room. Matthew watched him with a wary expression, hugging his polar bear plush close to his chest. His brother was mad at their parents for always being so strict, never letting them do as they pleased.

"I can't believe dad called me a… a… nushance? What  _is_ that even?"

"I think it means someone who is annoying…" Matthew quietly replied, voice wavering when Alfred roared and threw another book.

"Whatever! He's way more annoying than me! He- he… he's such a D!"

"What does D stand for?" Matthew asked, although he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

Alfred was about to tell him he wasn't supposed to say it out loud, but changed his mind. They couldn't punish him if they didn't hear him say it, right? So he walked over to his brother, looked left and right, and leant in. "It means dick!"

Matthew snorted as Alfred giggled. Then suddenly the fun was over, as a bolt of lightning flashed outside.

"Thunderstorm!" Matthew peeped anxiously, his small figure trembling. Alfred quickly hugged him when a loud drum of thunder sounded outside, the wind shaking at their bedroom window. "It's gonna be okay Mattie," the younger twin assured the other.

Alfred let out a shrill shriek when a piece of paper was suddenly whacked against the window, hiding his face in his brother's shirt.

"Al, stop! It's just a newspaper!" Matthew groaned. He untangled himself from Alfred's grasp and walked over to the window.

"Don't open it! The rain will come in!" Alfred warned, but Matthew ignored him. For some reason he simply had to get that paper inside somehow, as if it was calling for him. Quickly opening and closing the window was the only needed action, as the wet rag slid inside as soon as a small opening was created.

"Shit," Alfred said, after which he quickly slapped a hand over his mouth. Then he remembered his earlier bravado, pulled his hand away, and said it again. "Shit! Shit shit shit-"

"Alfred, stop it. Come look!"

The boys knelt down beside the piece of wet paper soaking their carpet. It was opened on a page somewhere near the back, ink lines running through and over each other, photos becoming vague depictions of monster-like creatures. One small advertisement was still visible, which Matthew began reading aloud.

"'Dearest children, are you sick and tired of the ste-stern behaviour of your parents?'" He and Alfred shared a look of surprise before the other quickly continued. "'Give us a call at this number, and all your troubles will be gone by morning! Sleep tight~' Mattie, I think this is like, faith or something! We have to call them!"

Matthew didn't look so sure. "Really? But we don't even know what they will do…"

Alfred let out a boisterous laugh and waved the other's concerns away. "They promised all our problems will be gone right? It has to be something good! Who knows, maybe they're just gonna teach dad how to be a good dad! Oh- maybe he is even gonna be a better cook!"

That final statement seemed more interesting to quieter of the twins. Arthur was known to be an absolutely awful cook after all.

They snuck down the stairs, two heads of blond peeking between the banisters to see their parents watching TV in the living room. Matthew bit his nails as Alfred tip-toed over to the coat rack, felt around in the pockets, and finally pulled out their father's cell. After that he quickly raced back, almost tripping over an abandoned shoe in the process. As soon as he reached the stairs Matthew herded him back to their shared bedroom, the twins giggling by the time they arrived there. Then it was a process of trying to figure out the blurry phone number written on the still dissolving newspaper, pushing the buttons on the phone, and waiting with breath held for it to go over.

Not even three seconds passed before a voice greeted them over the line. "Hello hello, how may I help you?"

Alfred shot Matthew a look before scraping his throat and speaking up. "Yeah um, we saw your ad? About the, uh-"

"Ah yes, of course! Don't worry dearie, all will be fixed by tomorrow morning."

"Wait a minute, I didn't even tell you what-"

"Just go to sleep, I promise you that when you wake up all will be better. Pinkie swear it even! Now hop, off to bed with you two!" A beep, and the call ended.

Alfred slowly looked over to Matthew, who looked equally frightened by the strange person on the other end of the line.

"How does he know there's two of us?" Matthew whispered, small hands clinging extra tightly to his plush polar bear.

"Maybe… Maybe uh… Oh! What if he is like Marry Poppins? You know, from the movie?" Alfred laughed anxiously, body quivering with nerves even though he didn't want to worry his brother. "Look, we just go to bed right? Maybe- maybe nothing will happen! Yeah, maybe this is just a dream!"

Matthew didn't seem all that convinced, but off to bed they went. And for once, Alfred didn't fight for the top bunk bed, but snuggled up to Matthew as they listened to the roaring wind outside.

* * *

By morning, the twins had forgotten all about their fearfulness. Going about their daily morning routine, they got ready to go to school. Brushing teeth, putting on some fresh clothes, grabbing their little backpacks and going downstairs.

Alfred hopefully sniffed the air. "I think papa made breakfast today," he said, mouth-watering at the lovely aromas filling the air the closer they got to the kitchen. "Race ya there!"

Matthew pushed him out of the way to get downstairs first, but Alfred jumped on top of him at the final step. They rolled about for a little bit before Alfred could get up, hurrying over to the kitchen to get his share of the food. He skidded to a halt once he went through the door. All Matthew could hear was a shriek of alarm, before finding out the cause of his brother's distress. There, standing in front of the stove, was a stranger.

"And then I'll cook you bake you mix you lay you in the oven to rest- Oh! You boys are awake!" The man turned towards them with a huge grin, and the boys could feel their jaws drop.

He resembled their father so much it was creepy, yet he was entirely different all the same. For one, this man had blue eyes and hair that resembled a lollipop, plus a lot of freckles covering the surface of his face. Though the eyebrows remained, as well as his forms and curves. What truly shocked them was the air surrounding this stranger. Because even though his appearance quite resembled Arthur's, the aura oozing out of him was something else completely. No grumpiness, the grandpa-exterior that screamed stiff upper lip replaced for a funny shirt and coat with a little bow tie. It was as if their father had drowned himself in a bath of pink and came out much happier with life.

"Who are you?" Alfred asked as soon as he found his tongue again. He unconsciously came to stand in front of Matthew, ever-protective of his beloved brother.

"Why love, allow me to introduce myself." He tipped an invisible head, still smiling. "The name's Oliver, at your service. But you can call me dad for the time being. I am here to replace your parents for a short while! Remember the call yesterday? It  _was_  you two who needed assistance, right lovelies?"

The boys looked at each other with big eyes. Then Matthew hesitantly spoke up as well. "But- if you're here, where are our real parents?" Alfred quickly piped in, "Yeah, tell us! Where's dad and papa?!"

Oliver giggled, waving his hand as if they just said the funniest thing in the world. "Oh, don't you worry about them! Our program is delightfully well-planned! You see, while I am here, making sure you boys have the time of your life, your parents are off on a little vacation where they'll learn how to take proper care of you! Now isn't that the nicest thing? You get to have fun, and when your parents have succeeded in their training you'll have even more fun with your new, much nicer- what did you call it? Papa and dad? Of course, of course."

Then Oliver turned around again, flipping a pancake before placing it neatly on top of the pile with already finished pieces. Alfred and Matthew were still awe-struck, both a little overwhelmed by the information.

"So… You just train them, and then they come back home? How long-"

"Oh, as long as necessary dearie! But don't you worry about a thing, they're in great hands."

It was the smell of food that finally drove them away from the door and towards the table. Taking small steps, like animals approaching danger. But as soon as a big pile of pancakes was placed in front of each, they remember their hunger and attacked. Oliver smiled at them, taking a seat directly across the two, so that he could look at the both of them.

"I will give you two the best of times while I'm here!" he reassured once more. "I shall cook the most delicious treats, let you play to your heart's content, you may stay up for as long as you'd like… it's going to be absolutely de-light-ful!"

"These are amazing!" Alfred admitted, downing his pancakes at such a pace it seemed like he was afraid of someone stealing them from under his nose. Matthew was going at it quite the same, him being very fond of pancakes- Oliver had even been kind enough to provide him with maple syrup!

"Of course they are. Everything I cook is amazing. And our time together will be the most extraordinary."

…

And it  _was_  extraordinary. Not only was Oliver an amazing cook, he kept his promises. Played with them to their heart's content, comforted them when they had a rough day, he even seemed to know all about their likes and dislikes. With each passing day he became more the perfect father and less the strange intruder. His bedtimes stories were fantastic, his giggles drove the boys to laugh hysterically themselves. There was even one time where Matthew admitted to being bullied, and Oliver promised he'd go talk to his bullies. Next day they were tame as can be!

The twins grew to enjoy Oliver's company very quickly. Of course they still waited for the return of their parents, because they  _were_  still their parents, but for now they were happy. For now…

* * *

It wasn't until a few weeks in that they began to notice some peculiarities. Like how Oliver's eyes didn't seem as blue anymore, but had taken on a greenish hue. Or how he began to imply a few odd rules. Never go in the basement, it's for your own safety. But when they tried to ask what was down there that would endanger them, Oliver simply distracted them with new toys and delicious snacks. That was another rule, how they had to finish whatever Oliver served them. Of course, all of his food was in a word heavenly, but it had caused the twins to gain a bit of weight despite the two of them being such active youngsters.

Don't tell anyone I'm in here. During breakfast you have to tell me something from the past you most enjoyed. A secret for a hug. Don't bring friends home, they'll just ruin the fun. And whenever they asked if their parents were coming home yet, Oliver would reply with an off-handed "soon dearies."

It was night time, and the boys were getting ready for bed. Matthew sat on the lower bed, hugging his plush polar bear to his chest, as Alfred tried to climb up to the top bed (which had become a little more of a task lately).

"Al?"

"Yeah Mattie?" Alfred replied as soon as he reached his bed, popping his head down so they could make eye contact. He was only slightly out of breath, but who cares?

"I… I miss dad and papa," the younger of the two admitted, burying his face in the soft fur of his Kuma when Alfred frowned.

"But dad was always so mean to us! Oliver never yells, always makes yummy food, and gives the best of hugs!"

"He's scary."

Alfred's mouth fell open. Oliver, scary? Well, he did always squeeze Alfred's sides whenever they hugged, and it did make him a bit uncomfortable… but Oliver only did that because he loved them, right? Then again, there was also the time a teacher had given him bad grades. Oliver just threw one glance at the paper before crumpling it into a small ball and throwing it into the garbage bin. He then promised Alfred all of his problems would be solved by morning. Which they did- because by morning, his teacher had decided he didn't want to teach at their school anymore, for reasons unknown. They didn't know whether Oliver was a wizard, or if it was his charisma. But it happened nonetheless.

"Well… he's only here until dad and papa are ready to come back, right? So that means they're not ready." Alfred trailed off into silence when he heard soft sniffles coming from the lower bed. With a bit of effort he climbed down again, then crawled next to his twin and embraced him. Matthew's body shook with suppressed sobs, and the miserable sight of him made Alfred's own eyes a bit teary.

"They will come back when they finish training, right? Maybe it's tomorrow! Maybe- maybe they just have too much fun on vacation?"

"No," came Matthew's muffled voice. "They never go on vacation without us. Dad and papa love us, they don't stay away that long! They don't… never…"

Alfred started grossly crying as well at those words. It was true, Arthur and Francis would never leave them alone for so long. It had been to months now, two amazing months mind you, but two months nonetheless. Too long for two children to be separated from their parents, even if it they weren't all family by blood. It was love that combined them, and love the twins missed. For that was one thing Oliver couldn't give them- years long of built-up trust and comfort, knowing he would always be there, because Oliver wouldn't. He was to leave as soon as their parents came back.

And the twins thought it to be high time that happened.

* * *

They came downstairs the next morning, Oliver busy making waffles with eggs and bacon. The aromas of hot chocolate milk permeated the air, making the twins mouth-water. Nevertheless, Matthew grabbed Alfred by the arm, shaking his head as a reminder of their plan. Alfred nodded, took in a gulp of breath, and stepped forward.

"When are dad and papa coming back?" he asked, voicing sounding much more tiny than expected. Oliver didn't even look back as he let out a jolly laugh.

"I told you many times children! They'll come back once they're ready!"

"But… but it's been months…" Matthew softly protested, little hands balled to determined fists. He felt his eyes water again, but held back the tears. He just wanted to see his parents again, was that too much to ask for?

Oliver turned off the stove and turned around with his pans and plates. "Now now children, won't you be well-behaved and eat your breakfast? I made it with love~"

Alfred felt himself get tempted by the promise of delicious food and cuddles and bedtime stories, but was taken aback by a soft whisper of "…No you don't…"

Oliver's eyes widened just a tad, his smile straining. "Come again love? I didn't quite catch that. You have to remember to speak up, Matthew."

"I said you don't love us!" Matthew repeated, much louder this time. Alfred's jaw dropped just in time with the plates, the sharp noise of shattering glass stinging their ears. Matthew leapt back when the adult stalked forward, face still stuck on that creepy smile of his. Alfred, despite terrified himself, protectively curled himself around his brother.

"Now boys… you made me waste perfectly good china. I won't have none of that. Now… Why don't you two just go to school, and we'll talk about this later, okay lads? No harm done."

"But-"

"I said," he giggled, a sound far too high-pitched to be natural, "go. To. School."

The twins ran out of the kitchen as fast as their legs could carry them, only just in time remembering to scoop up their backpacks before sprinting out the door. Breakfastless and no longer thinking Oliver was a nice guy. Their eyes had been opened at long last.

* * *

"I don't want to go home Al," Matthew cried.

"Me too," Alfred agreed, just as blubbery (if not even more so). All day long they had been able to forget about the incident, busied with math problems and running laps around the playground (which wasn't half as easy as it used to be). Now, on the way back home, the anxiety came crashing over them like a tidal wave.

"Maybe- maybe he's nice now-"

"No!" Matthew protested. "I don't want him nice! I want my dads!"

Alfred swallowed, then frowned. "But… can't we just ask? You know, we called Oliver, can't he just leave if we tell him we don't wanna do this anymore?"

Matthew stilled, looking up at the other with big teary eyes. Alfred took out the clean handkerchief he always carried and dapped his eyes dry. "Hey, it's okay. We just ask him, right? Dad and papa will be back tomorrow, maybe even today! Don't cry Mattie, please don't cry."

And all Matt could do was cry even more at his brother's kindness.

* * *

Shocking developments awaited the twins at home. Sitting in the couch and reading today's newspaper was none after than their father. From his messy coup to forest green eyes and monstrous eyebrows to the most unfashionable outfit, it had to be Arthur.

"Dad!" they shrieked in unison, after which the two struggled to be the first to reach their parent. They leapt into his arms, crying happy tears. Or at least, that was until that ominous giggle filled the room, like some sort of foreboding.

"Oh, I knew you boys would like this! You love me, you love me~"

Alfred and Matthew immediately pulled back when they recognized that voice. It wasn't Arthur after all.

"Oliver?!" Alfred peeped, eyes practically bulging out of their sockets.

"Why do you look like dad?" Matthew added, body quivering and shaking.

"Oh but I don't just look like dad," Oliver laughed, slowly rising from his seat. "I am dad."

Matthew screamed when he was lifted off the floor, Oliver's hands resembling claws as sharp nails dug into soft flesh. Alfred was frozen at first, mouth gasping out a soundless terror at hearing his brother being tormented by that giggling demon.

"Alfred, help me!" Matthew cried, and something switched inside the boy's mind. Time began spinning twice as fast when he threw himself onto Oliver, successfully knocking him off-balance and making his claw-hands drop Matthew. The boy cried out when he landed rather painfully, but there was no time to rest. Alfred pulled his brother off the floor and had dragged him to the stairs by the time Oliver recovered from his momentary stupefaction.

"That was not very nice you know," he said, voice taking on an eerie calmness. He tried to follow the twins up the stairs, but luckily Alfred had been so naughty as not to put away his skateboard that night. This resulted in the object being sent down, stalling Oliver for just long enough so that the children could escape to their bedroom. As soon as the door fell shut they locked it and pushed all of their toys in front of it. Afterwards they had to take a breather, the actions straining on their fattened bodies.

"Come out come out boys!" came Oliver's muffled voice, and Matthew slapped his hands over his ears to keep himself from listening to that dreaded sound. Alfred was crying, the strong big brother façade broken completely by his distress. They were being chased by a monster who wore their father's appearance as a second skin. It was as if they were trapped in a nightmare, exceeding their wildest fantasies.

"We have to get help!" Alfred whispered, words interrupted by loud sobs. Matthew nodded in agreement. Any plan was better than just staying here in this hopeless situation, the only thing separating them from the intruder being a square of plastic and some stuffed animals.

"We, we climb out the window! You know, like in the movies!" Matthew nodded again, and they set to binding together scarfs and sheets. Occasionally complaints and sultry pleas welled up from behind the door, but they didn't dare open it. Once the rope was made they secured it to the bed and slung the rest out of the window.

"Okay, you go first, I make sure he stays up here," Alfred ushered in a rushed voice, anxiously looking over his shoulder. Matthew swallowed and looked down. "Are you sure it's safe?" he asked, hesitating.

"Yeah, of course it is! They do it all the time in the movies! Now go go go, I don't wanna be here anymore!"

Matthew wanted to retort, pushing himself up on the window pane. His hand slipped. Alfred's eyes widened in horror when he saw his brother tumble out the window. No screaming, no dramatic music. All that could be heard was a sickening crack when that young body hit the ground. Alfred didn't dare move at first, heart pounding loudly in his ears. His feet moved him almost robotically to the window, leaving his consciousness behind. It was as if someone else looked outside, looked down, let out a cry when he saw the odd angle of limbs and a small trail of blood running beneath the hairline. It was all so surreal. Matthew was okay… right?

Alfred had to go down, had to be by his brother's side. Matthew needed him, he was sure of it. By the shrill ringing resonating inside his skull, he knew Matt was in desperate need of his twin.

He pushed his ear to the door, listening intently. No sound. "Oliver?" he asked, voice that of a stranger. No reaction.

Alfred removed the toys and unlocked the door. Peeking outside, he found the hallway devoid of life. The world seemed to spin around him as he made his way to the stairs, taking them one step at the time so as not to fall. Only one thought overpowering every other, droning on like a mantra.

Matthew. Matthew. Matthew. Matthew. Matthew.

Maybe if he repeated it enough he would find his brother perfectly fine. Matt would jump up, laughing, because it had all been an act. Even if Alfred was the trickster, this time it had to be Matthew. No other possibility.

"Alfred."

The boy whirled around when that familiar voice reached him. There, standing at the door of the basement, was none other than their dearest papa. With his blue eyes, prickly stubble and blond hair tied back in a ponytail. He was home. Finally.

A loud sob escaped the child as he threw himself into Francis' arms. "I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry! I didn't mean to, I didn't want you guys to go- quick! We have to help Mattie! Something happened, something- it was an accident! We gotta help him!"

But when Alfred looked up with teary eyes, he wasn't met by love or comfort. No, Francis only sported an expression of pure apathy. And it was then that Alfred noticed it. The foul stench of something rotting, like spoilt meat.

Alfred yelped when Francis pinched his baby fat, then nodded. "Guess you're ready." After which he shoved Alfred into the basement, causing him to roll down the stairs.

Alfred came to a halt at the bottom, letting out a sad little whine. Yet it was when he opened his eyes that the biggest surprise of the day was bestowed upon him.

Arthur. And Francis too. Dad and papa had been in the basement all along. Not away on some educational holiday, but right here. The boy would have cried in relief, were it not for a few little details.

Arthur wasn't Arthur anymore, nor was Francis still Francis. Well, they were themselves, wearing the same clothes they did the day before disappearing, a hint of perfume coming from Francis. But something – or someone – had robbed them from their identity.

Alfred felt the urge to throw up rising the more he took in his parents' appearances. Shackled to the wall, covered in dirt and blood and other undefined stains. Someone had cut off their hair, as if wanting to make a wig for themselves. They both wore filthy blindfolds, and Alfred's overly active imagination could clearly picture the gory emptiness laying behind. The worst part was that they were still alive.

"Well, well, well. Such a pity you had to find out like this."

Alfred couldn't tear his eyes away from his parents, but knew Oliver and the other imposer were at the top of the stairs, the door locking behind them.

"Next time, love." A heavy thud down each step. "Be careful what you wish for."

Oliver laughed. Alfred screamed.


End file.
